Dear Rosie, (Love Letters #2)

Than when I was inside her.

This feels more… personal.

Intimate.

This feels like Rosie belongs to me.

SIXTY-THREE

ROSALYN

I squeeze my eyes shut.

I’m the one cuddled against Nathan, but he’s the one holding me like I might disappear.

Like he can’t let me go.

I inhale deeply, letting his scent fill my lungs.

He’s acting like this is the beginning of something.

But I’m the one who knows this won’t last.

It can’t.

Vibrations wake me.

I crack an eye open.

The room isn’t as dark as it was, but it’s not light out either. It’s that time right before dawn, before the world wakes up.

The vibrations continue, and I blink as I realize there’s something heavy and warm on my back.

During the night, I slung my leg up over Nathan’s thigh, and Idraped myself farther over his chest, my arm draped all the way across his body.

His arms are wrapped around me, in a hug tighter than I thought possible for a sleeping person. But his arms aren’t vibrating.

I lift my head from Nathan’s chest and arch my neck to look behind me.

A pair of eyes looks back at me.

I squeak, then try to hold very still.

The cat’s face is inches from mine. A cute little orange face, but we haven’t been properly introduced, and I don’t want to be swatted by startled claws.

“Good kitty,” I whisper, trying to remember the cat’s name.

Nathan grumbles something, and the arms around me tighten. Then the cat starts purring again, and the vibrations finally make sense.

Not a bad way to wake up.

I give myself a mental shake.

I need to get home so I can spend the day cooking. And I need to leave before I get used to this cozy little wake-up scene.

Nathan was nice enough to let me—a.k.a. make me—stay here so he could drive me home safely, but I won’t read into it. He’s just a nice guy doing nice guy things.

And I’ll admit the sexual tension between us has been real since the moment we first saw each other again. But we’ve done the deed. We’ve broken the spell.